Dear dying Lamb, thy precious blood
Shall never lose its power,
Till all the ransomed church of God
Be saved, to sin no more.
E'er since, by faith, I saw the stream
Thy flowing wounds supply,
Redeeming love has been my theme,
And shall be till I die.
Then in a nobler, sweeter song
I'll sing thy power to save;
When this poor lisping, stammering tongue
Lies silent in the grave.
Lord, I believe thou hast prepared
(Unworthy though I be)
For me a blood-bought free reward,
A golden harp for me!
'Tis strung and tuned for endless years,
And formed by power divine,
To sound in God the Father's ears
No other name but thine.
YE sons of earth, prepare the plough,
Break up your fallow-ground;
The sower is gone forth to sow
And scatter blessing round.
The seed that finds a stony soil
Shoots forth a hasty blade;
But ill repays the sower's toil,
Soon withered, scorched, and dead.
The thorny ground is sure to balk
All hopes of harvest there;
We find a tall and sickly stalk,
But not the fruitful ear.
The beaten path and highway side
Receive the trust in vain;
The watchful birds the spoil divide,
And pick up all the grain.
But where the Lord of grace and power
Has blessed the happy field,
How plenteous is the golden store
The deep-wrought furrows yield!
Father of mercies, we have need
Of thy preparing grace;
Let the same hand that gives the seed
Provide a fruitful place.
XVII. THE HOUSE OF PRAYER
Mark xi. 17
THY mansion is the Christian's heart,
O Lord, thy dwelling-place secure!
Bid the unruly throng depart,
And leave the consecrated door.
Devoted as it is to thee,
A thievish swarm frequents the place;
They steal away my joys from me,
And rob my Saviour of his praise.
There, too, a sharp designing trade
Sin, Satan, and the World maintain;
Nor cease to press me, and persuade
To part with ease, and purchase pain.
I know them, and I hate their din ;
Am weary of the bustling crowd;
But while their voice is heard within,
I cannot serve thee as I would.
Oh for the joy thy presence gives,
What peace shall reign when thou art here!
Thy presence makes this den of thieves
A calm delightful house of prayer.
And if thou make thy temple shine,
Yet self-abased will I adore;
The gold and silver are not mine;
I give thee what was thine before.
XVIII. LOVEST THOU ME?
John xxi. 16
HARK, my soul! it is the Lord;
'Tis thy Saviour, hear his word;
Jesus speaks, and speaks to thee,
Say, poor sinner, lovest thou me ?
"I delivered thee when bound,
And, when bleeding, healed thy wound,
Sought thee wandering, set thee right,
Turned thy darkness into light.
"Can a woman's tender care
Cease towards the child she bare?
Yes, she may forgetful be,
Yet will I remember thee.
"Mine is an unchanging love,
Higher than the heights above,
Deeper than the depths beneath,
Free and faithful, strong as death.
"Thou shalt see my glory soon,
When the work of grace is done;
Partner of my throne shalt be:-
Say, poor sinner, lovest thou me?"
Lord, it is my chief complaint
That my love is weak and faint;
Yet I love thee and adore,—
Oh! for grace to love thee more!
FIERCE passions discompose the mind,
As tempests vex the sea;
But calm content and peace we find
When, Lord, we turn to thee.
In vain by reason and by rule
We try to bend the will;
For none but in the Saviour's school
Can learn the heavenly skill.
Since at his feet my soul has sate,
His gracious words to hear,
Contented with my present state,
I cast on him my care.
"Art thou a sinner, soul?" he said,
"Then how canst thou complain?
How light thy troubles here, if weighed
With everlasting pain!
"If thou of murmuring wouldst be cured,
Compare thy griefs with mine;
Think what my love for thee endured,
And thou wilt not repine.
""Tis I appoint thy daily lot,
And I do all things well;
Thou soon shalt leave this wretched spot, And rise with me to dwell.
"In life my grace shall strength supply, Proportioned to thy day;
At death thou still shalt find me nigh,
To wipe thy tears away."
Thus I, who once my wretched days
In vain repinings spent,
Taught in my Saviour's school of grace,
Have learned to be content.
ISRAEL in ancient days
Not only had a view
Of Sinai in a blaze,
But learned the Gospel too;
The types and figures were a glass,
In which they saw a Saviour's face.
The paschal sacrifice
And blood-besprinkled door, Seen with enlightened eyes,
And once applied with power,
Would teach the need of other blood
To reconcile an angry God.
The Lamb, the Dove, set forth
His perfect innocence,
Whose blood of matchless worth
Should be the soul's defence;
For he who can for sin atone
Must have no failings of his own.
"Watch, remember, seek, and strive, Exert thy former pains; Let thy timely care revive,
And strengthen what remains ; Cleanse thine heart, thy works amend, Former times to mind recall,
Lest my sudden stroke descend
And smite thee once for all.
"Yet I number now in thee
A few that are upright;
These my Father's face shall see,
And walk with me in white.
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